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Friday, January 18, 2013

You took the right turn at the crossroads :D

Things I've learned~The image of David Bowie "catch(ing) the paper boy" is patently offensive, especially when it ultimately leads up to his put(ting) his trust in God and man." The issue is not whether "God and man" deserve your trust, but as to whether the paper boy checks your nickel with his teeth, says, "thanks, Mister!" and you go away to college, or decide to stay home to be closer to your friends, pot and beer. Guess what? There was plenty of pot and beer AT college, you didn't know, and Josie's on a vacation far away, anyway. The broad bells of your sunshine-yellow zoot-suit pants glanced against some dog shit, and the dream was partially lost regardless.

That's why the killer in the woods who can't be seen / captured on camera, not because he lives in some fantas(tical) world / alter-dimension, but because of Okocim's Razor (which states that if you're drunk enough, even the path of the fewest assumptions cannot be walked "straightly") and why they always look at the husband/boyfriend when a woman is killed. The answer is usually right there, and most people just plain don't pay attention. Figuring out this simple fact will put you one step further on your path to becoming a serial killer. (*ding - now flip the tape over to Side B.)

And another thing, it was so much more FUN trying to sort out song lyrics, when one couldn't just go online someplace, and find the basic, skeletal truths right there for all to see. I vastly prefer my version of "Surfin' Safari," to that of lyrics365; again, funnier. Mistakes are good, and in the World of The Third Mind, are not mistakes at all. (Tomorrow, I'll be hating myself, and measuring out rope to hang myself, so I want to get this all down now.) It's kind of like the way "50 Megatons" is always so much harderin my mind, than when I go back and listen to the actual record; limper dick. Are you getting any of this? I realize in the broader sense that these are all abstractions, but there are no mistakes when all is accepted as possible. And that's another thing, where does the "Doo-Dah" go in "The Bonzo Dog Band"? I don't wanna know—don't tell me! "IT WAS A 60-MEGATON! Bum-dee-dee-bum-bum, dee-dee bum-bum...." And some will yet respond, "Are you okay, Bill-man-dude? Measuring rope? That's kind of creepy." Please don't; I'm o.k. And I'm not suggesting that you don't care, either (as in "once you care, you're FUCKED"—the title of this week's show; I need loved ones who are concerned about me, like everyone does, as much or more than the next guy) I'm suggesting that you care, when and where, if I may be so bold.

Any new business? Ah, the business of this week's radio programme! Black Keys (inevitable); Satan's Satyrs (really '69? No, but it's okay.); IDES (continuously, yeah! wait for that live set, it's a round winner!); Whitehorse; Death Convention Singers (Raven, that record is great!!! Better every time I listen); and lastly, but with the quality of a full-sonic meal, SIST EN 343. Holy shit.

So what have we learned, beside the fact that I'm not an educator, and that Kristen Stewart was not put here on this Earth for you, buddy boy (maybe if they ever remake that early 90s angel-in-the-pool movie)?

—THAT THERE ARE NO "FACTS," EXCEPT "I ATE THIS, AND IT MADE ME SICK."—

Thank goodness and the gods of creativity, that someone thought of a killer that cannot be "captured," get it? ... in this day when everyone has a portable DV recorder, or at the very least a phone. Bee stings at the bottom of this page? "But I'm allergic!"—meaning "you're allergic"—not my problem.

About Me

Joined WFMU-FM in 1984, broadcasting The Hip Bone show (1984-1999), and My Castle of Quiet (2009-present.)
Owner / operator, Prison Tatt Records.
10 years in the band Uncle Wiggly, plus other assorted musical accomplishments; solo sound artist and collaborator.
Writing freelance off and on for over 20 years.